Leon sits up straighter. “That’s a whole different ball game.”
“Eight,” Oliver says.
“We’ll have risks.” I hold his gaze. “Five or nothing, and I want half of the interest transferred upfront.”
A slow smile curves Oliver’s lips. “You drive a hard bargain, my friends, but since it’s my birthday, I’m in a generous mood.”
“We supply on my terms,” I say. “When and if I have cash.”
“Deal.” Oliver extends a hand.
We shake on it.
I get to my feet, dragging Cas with me. “We’re keeping you from your guests.”
He stands. “Let me introduce you to the ball players.”
Making deals while Cas is present isn’t ideal, but it would’ve looked bad for her if I’d sent her out while talking business. It would’ve sent a message of distrust and disrespect.
I only breathe easier once we’re outside the room. Thank fuck I’m not wearing a tie. A tie would’ve only strangled me. Leon isn’t happy about the deal, but he won’t contradict me in front of our partners. It would show a crack in our cohesion as a team. The prospect of Europe has been on my radar for a while. We’ve exhausted South Africa, and you can only tempt fate in the same place for so long. With Wolfe on our tails, it’s better to extend our scope to new territories.
Oliver introduces us to Yang and Salesi. From the way they drool over Cas, I feel like bashing in a few heads and breaking all their fingers and toes. Only the way she clings to me makes me hang onto reason. Her presence both stresses and calms me. I can’t stand the thought that anything should happen to her, yet I feel safer having her close to me. The event with the baboon has shaken me to my core. It’s my job to protect her, and I’ve done a shitty one so far.
We make just enough conversation to not appear rude before leaving. All I can think about is the gun strapped to Cas’s thigh under that dress. The thought alone makes me hard. The sight is sexier than sin. It’s hot in a twisted kind of way, but it’s our way, and anyone who wants to judge us for that can take a hike.
Despite my efforts to get us home early, we arrive back at the lodge after midnight. At our room, I let Cas in ahead of me. The minute I’ve closed the door, I walk her to the nearest vertical surface. Pressing her front to the wall, I pin her down with my weight. I take her clutch from her hand and leave it on the chair. Then I reach under her dress for the holster, remove it carefully, and put it aside. When her thighs are bare, I slide my hands up the insides until I reach the lacy fabric of her panties. She turns her face sideways to look at me.
“Did you hate tonight?” I ask in a gruff voice.
“More or less,” she says, gasping as I pull the elastic of her underwear aside.
I brush my lips over the shell of her ear. “Me too.”
She doesn’t say something useless like she doesn’t want me to go to Europe or risk my life. She remains perfectly quiet as I trace her slit and part her folds with the tip of my finger to expose her clit.
“Put your hands on the wall,” I say, rubbing the button that finally makes her give me sounds.
She moans as she places her palms on the wall next to her face. I tease her with slow, circular movements until she turns slick. Not able to wait longer, I slide a finger inside. She’s ready—wet and hot. I want her just like this, still wearing the sexy velvet dress and her underwear, like every man saw and desired but couldn’t have her tonight. I’m the only man who gets to take.
She protests with a whimper when I pull out my finger.
I kiss her neck. “Tell me what you want.”
“You,” she says, already breathless.
In record time, I undo my belt and pull down my zipper. My cock is in my hand before her pussy has adjusted from the stretch of my finger. I’m inside her as her gasp tears through the room. I pivot my hips. Mine. She exhales when I pull almost all the way out and slam back in. Mine. I emphasize the truth with every thrust, making her go on tiptoes to try and escape my roughness. I don’t back down, because she likes this kind of rough. Her inner muscles clench around me, milking me too hard, and the sexy sounds coming from her mouth makes me grow even thicker inside her.
I’m reluctant to pull out now when we’re both so close, but I need to get a condom. I fit one hurriedly, sloppily almost, and when I grip her hips and find her entrance, the upward shove of my hips is twice as hard. She’s shamelessly rubbing her body against the wall, getting herself off as I fuck her as hard with my eyes as with my cock.
Within three thrusts, I come. The pleasure hits me so hard it almost hurts. Utterly gratifying. I haven’t taken care of her pleasure yet, but I couldn’t hold back, not with the images of her wearing that gun so close to her pussy. Not while being tormented with raging jealousy all night. Slipping a hand between the wall and her body, I rub her clit while my cock already grows hard inside her again. She has that effect on me. She will make me come again in seconds, even if I have to come dry.
Her orgasm takes longer to come. I’m rubbing too hard, over-stimulating her, but I want her to come as roughly as I have. When her climax finally hits, she clenches around my cock with violent spasms. All the muscles in her body lock as she scrapes her nails over the wall. Her breathing is harsh, telling me I’ve achieved my aim.
Pressing my nose against her temple, I inhale her intoxicating smell. She’s orange blossoms and all my fantasies come true.
I want to give her a love declaration, but instead, my words ring ominous. “You don’t get to leave me. Ever.”
Chapter 17
Cas
I wake up sore between my legs and everywhere else. We were rough last night, but I understand why Ian needed it. Dragging me along to Oliver’s party had left him on edge, and the uncertainty of our situation made him insecure. He needed to assert his possession and mark me in the most primal way a man can mark a woman, proving to both of us to who I belong.
The thought warms my chest and sends butterflies to my stomach. I can never approve of what he does for a living, but I can never fall out of love with him either. He is who he is, and I’ve accepted that as I’ve accepted the love blossoming in my heart. The gang doesn’t rob banks or stores. They don’t steal people’s hard-earned money or savings. They target corrupted individuals, government organizations, fancy museums, and institutions who lure people into gambling away their money.
However, I’m not going to use that to justify his behavior. He’s a criminal, and he’ll always be, but when I decided to give him my heart, I decided to accept the uglier parts of the truths of his life. His life is mine, and my life is his. We’re inseparable, two necklaces carved to be sold together, forever intertwined. When he first took me, he made me an accomplice without giving me a choice, but now I willingly take on that burden by deciding to stay. I’m not going to turn a blind eye to what he does. I’m going into this with my eyes wide open. I carry full responsibility for loving a criminal.
No matter what happens, I don’t want to betray him. Deep down, I always knew he was my other half on this earth. There are many reasons for us not to be together. He’s a wanted criminal sought by the authorities. His job is dangerous. Our lives are always at risk. There’s a difference of eleven years between us, but if my mom taught me one thing, it’s to never let norms lay down my rules. My mom was fifteen years older than my dad, and their marriage was magic. They were the happiest couple I knew. So, I embrace the risks.
When I accept to love our darkness as much as I love what’s good between us, peace dawns. There’s no more judgment, no mind wrestling to weighs pros against cons. There’s only my heart, my physically weak, headstrong heart, but my heart has always been all that matters.
I have a quick shower and get dressed. As usual, Ian has left breakfast for me—yoghurt and muesli with raspberries and honey. Our clothes from last night lie in a careless heap on the floor, a sweet reminder of our chemistry and compatibility that sends a wave of pleasant heat to my stomach. Ian ha
s put away my gun and left my clutch on the chair. He’s plugged in my phone, making sure it’s fully charged.
More heat creeps over my skin, but this time it’s the unpleasant kind sparked by guilt. Biting my lip, I pick up the phone and unlock the screen. I haven’t set up a password. Ian could’ve easily checked my phone, but he didn’t, because he’s starting to trust me. The guilt that eats at my gut makes me glance at the door before I scroll to my notes. Ian will be somewhere on the farm, fixing something, or maybe he’ll be in the office, taking care of the books until Banga gets back. Maybe he’s converting the dining room into the dance studio he told me about last night while he held me in his arms, a place at the main building for me to do exercise and keep fit. It only makes me feel worse when I push on the play button and Oliver’s voice comes on.
I didn’t have time to listen to the recording. When I pretended to search for a tissue in my bag, I activated my phone. I wasn’t sure if it would work, but the men’s voices are clear as they discuss the deal. I’ve gotten everything, right to the part where they agree on the percentage of interest.
For a brief moment, I consider deleting the conversation, but this is my insurance if Ian can’t protect me. Since claiming me as his girlfriend last night, his enemies are mine. Even his friends pose danger. Oliver could still try to get his hands on me, and I’ll never trust Ruben. I’ll have to check my back twenty-four-seven. If I ever needed ammunition against any of those dangerous men, this is my ticket to safety. I’ll have to get hold of a flash drive and send the voice file to the drive before deleting it on my phone. To manage that, I need access to an adapter or a computer. I’ll have to convince Ian to let me use his laptop. Maybe I can steal a flash drive from the office.
I lock the screen and slip the phone into my handbag before carrying my breakfast outside. On the deck, I pause in surprise. The Jeep is parked out front. Leaving the tray on the table, I go down the steps and peer inside the vehicle.
The key is in the ignition. Ian left me the Jeep. He’s letting me drive without an escort. Emotions tighten my throat. I lift the canvas lying on the backseat to reveal a rifle. The trust he’s giving me only makes me feel worse, but I push it away as I shovel the breakfast down my throat and hurriedly make my way to the village.
Today I don’t go directly to the fields. I make a detour to the settlement and park in front of the clinic after making sure Ian’s Hummer isn’t anywhere within sight. To be on the safe side, I call him.
“This is a surprise,” he says in a deep voice, the obvious pleasure in his tone giving me goosebumps.
I can’t help the smile that slips onto my face. Playing with the Nyaminyami around my neck, I say, “We saw each other little over an hour ago.”
“Mm, you mean when I was buried inside you.”
My cheeks heat with the delicious memory. “Are you busy?”
“Just fixing the mirror for your new dance studio. Why? Is something wrong?”
I twist the tip of my shoe into the ground. “I just wanted to say thanks for leaving me the Jeep.”
A second passes. He knows what I’m really thanking him for. “Did you find the rifle?”
“Yes.”
“Make sure you keep it with you.”
“Will do.”
“I’m fetching Shona from the airport later. I’ll be late for lunch.”
“Be safe.”
His words are spoken with warmth. “You too, baby doll.”
I don’t say goodbye—I’m superstitious like that—but he doesn’t hang up. He waits for me to end the call. I stare at the phone for another second, guilt and happiness mixing in my chest, before I go inside.
Maita comes to meet me in the waiting room when the receptionist tells her I’m there.
“Cas.” She takes my hands in hers. “What a surprise. What brings you here?”
“Can we talk in private?”
“Of course.”
She leads the way to the consultation room and closes the door. When we’ve both taken a seat, she says, “I hope nothing is wrong. Are you coming down with something?”
Fiddling with the strap of my bag, I say, “I need a pregnancy test.”
Her eyes grow large. “How late are you?”
“Only a few days, so it’s probably nothing, but I prefer to have the reassurance.”
“Yes.” She gives me a concerned look. “Sure. Wait here.” She pushes to her feet. “I’ll go get you one.”
“Thanks,” I say meekly as she leaves the room.
I twist my hands together while I wait. A week is nothing. I’ve been late before. I’m ninety-nine percent sure I’m worrying about nothing, but I’ll sleep easier if I know for sure.
Maita returns with a white box and hands it to me. “Would you like to do it here at the clinic?”
“If you don’t mind.” If it’s nothing, I don’t want the staff or Ian to accidently catch a glimpse of the box in the trash.
Her smile is kind. “I’ll show you the bathroom. Do you know how to use the test?”
I’ve never needed to do a pregnancy test, but the instructions are in English. “I’ll figure it out.”
She steers me into the bathroom and checks under the two toilet stalls to make sure we’re alone before she tells me to pee on the stick and wait a few minutes for the result to appear.
Taking the box, I go into the first stall and lock the door. Despite being certain I’m overreacting, my hands tremble as I unwrap the plastic. I’m clumsy. The strap of my handbag slips from my shoulder and my bag falls on the floor. I curse as the contents roll out over the tiles, some of them disappearing beneath the gap under the door.
Dammit. I forgot to close the zipper when I put my phone back in my bag after speaking to Ian. I leave the box on the wall shelf, open the door, and scurry around to gather lipstick, make-up, tissues, and chewing gum.
I’ve almost thrown everything back into my bag when a scrunched-up ball of paper catches my eye. I stare at it for a moment, trying to place it before ironing it out with my palms. It’s the printout of the men who robbed the bank in Rustenburg. It takes me by surprise, but then I remember. Wolfe showed it to me when he accused Ian’s gang of the crime. In the state I was in, I crumpled it in my hand and later, outside, dropped it in my bag without thinking.
I study the three men in their Phantom masks. They’re the same height as Ian, Ruben, and Leon. With the haircaps, masks, gloves, and Phantom sport suits, it’s impossible to tell who they are. Squinting, I look closely at the shotgun the man in the front carries. The model is available everywhere. With a license, it can be bought from any gun shop. It’s even easier to acquire on the black market. The other two men carry automatic rifles. There’s nothing discerning about their weapons either.
Folding the printout, I dump it with the rest of the stuff in my bag and go back to the toilet. This time, I make sure my bag is closed before hanging the strap on the hook behind the door. I remove the stick from the package, get ready, and do my business. My pulse pounds in my temples when I recap the stick. Leaving it on a paper towel on the vanity, I wash my hands and wait. After three minutes, I pull off the cap, expecting to see the single blue line.
My heart almost stops.
Two lines. Positive.
I’m pregnant.
It can’t be. It only happened once and with a broken condom no less. It’s not even as if Ian came inside me. I’m battling to digest what’s in front of me. I’m in denial even if I’m staring at the proof. With our kind of connection and chemistry, I should’ve anticipated this. Fate has dealt us a strong card. Nothing that happens between us happens in moderation. It’s as if the universe sent us a blast. Everything is magnified.
Blinking, I look and look at the lines.
I’m going to have Ian’s baby. A mixture of shock and joy swells in my chest. Sweat breaks out over my body when I think of the consequences. Can we raise a child in our world? Will Ian be happy or angry? Will he be excited or disappointed? Wha
tever the case, I know without a doubt he’ll stand by me, no matter what.
Feeling weak, I grip the counter. My doctor said I could have a normal pregnancy with my heart condition. I just have to be monitored well. What worries me more is giving my genes to my baby like my mother gave me hers. Still, I can’t help but want the little life growing inside me, not now that I’ve seen the blue lines, especially knowing it’s Ian’s. Will he want it? Will he prefer that I have an abortion?
Too many questions assault me. I can’t properly digest the news, let alone think about the consequences.
A soft knock falls on the door, and Maita enters.
One look at my face, and hers fall. “Oh, Cas.”
I show her the stick.
She covers her mouth with a hand, uncertainty playing in her eyes. “Are you happy?”
“Yes,” I say. “Well, confused. We had one little slipup. It’s still a big shock.”
“Are you angry?” she asks.
“What? No. Of course not. It’s not the baby’s fault.”
“I meant Ian. Are you mad with him for not getting you the morning-after pill?”
“That’s not going to change anything. I’d rather use my energy dealing with the current situation.”
She looks relieved. “Yes.” Her brow scrunches up. “Do you want to keep it?”
“Yes,” I say, cupping a hand over my stomach, “but it’s not my decision alone to make. I don’t know how Ian is going to react when I tell him.”
Out of nowhere, the enormity of what’s happening crashes down on me. The truth hits me like a brick between the eyes. Dragging a hand over my mouth, I look at my pale face in the mirror. “Fuck. This will complicate his life—ours—for sure.”
Suddenly, I’m scared. I’m scared for the baby I’m carrying, but also scared of losing Ian. Does he even want to be a father? What happened is just as much his doing as mine. He carries half of that responsibility, but some men get weird about being tied down with a kid. He’ll stand by me, I still don’t doubt that, but will he want to do it from a distance? Will he think it’s safer for our child and me to leave? Or will he just not want to be bogged down with that kind of responsibility? Will he be a father who fulfills his duty only with a monthly child support check?
Stolen Life Page 18
